Adrian’s POVThe rain lashed against the windows of the penthouse, each droplet pounding as if it were trying to pierce through the glass. The storm outside mirrored the tempest inside me—a raging, relentless fury that no amount of whiskey could dull.I stood in the living room, swirling the amber liquid in my glass, but its heat did nothing to thaw the icy anger gripping my chest. Emily was safe now—that fact should have been enough. Yet every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Bound. Bruised. Terrified.My Emily.The image tore through me, a fresh wound every time it resurfaced. They had dared to touch her, dared to hurt her, and now every fiber of my being demanded retribution.My knuckles throbbed, the raw skin splitting where I had thrown punch after punch. The satisfying crunch of bones under my fists should have brought me some peace. It hadn’t. Not when there were still unanswered questions. Not when I knew the threat wasn’t over.“Adrian.”Her voice was soft, hesitant, yet it
Adrian’s POVThe silence in the penthouse was unnerving. My steps echoed faintly as I moved through the dimly lit space, the weight of the night pressing down on me. Emily lay asleep in my bed, her delicate form wrapped tightly in the blankets, as if shielding herself from the world. Her face was calm now, a stark contrast to the fear and pain I’d seen etched into it only hours ago.My hands curled into fists at the memory. Those bastards had dared to lay a hand on her—to hurt her. Rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over, but I forced myself to exhale slowly, grounding the storm. I couldn’t afford to lose control now. Not when she needed me steady.I sat down on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her, though my gaze lingered on the faint bruises marring her skin. Her breathing was soft, even, a rhythm I found myself syncing to as the tension in my body eased ever so slightly.But the guilt? That didn’t fade.I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees a
Emily’s POVWhen I woke, the first thing I noticed was the faint golden light streaming through the curtains. It painted the room in warm hues, but the warmth didn’t extend to my chest. There was a dull ache there, a reminder that the horrors of last night hadn’t been a nightmare.I sat up slowly, my muscles stiff and aching, and the events of the previous evening washed over me like a cold wave. The hands that had grabbed me. The cruel laughter. The helplessness. My chest tightened, and I clenched my fists against the surge of emotions threatening to drown me.But then I remembered him.Adrian.My gaze flicked to the chair by the window, where he had sat the last time I drifted off, his presence a silent shield against my spiraling thoughts. But now, the chair was empty.He’s gone.The thought was like a knife twisting in my gut. I shouldn’t have expected him to stay. He had done enough, hadn’t he? Stayed through the worst of it, comforted me when I couldn’t even face myself. It wasn
Emily's POVI woke slowly, the warmth of the sheets cocooning me, creating a shield against reality. The faint ache in my body was a bittersweet reminder of everything that had transpired—fear, rescue, and the man who refused to let me face any of it alone. Adrian. His presence lingered in the air, as palpable as the cedar and citrus scent that clung to the bedding.The room around me wasn’t mine. It was too masculine, too pristine, yet somehow inviting in its simplicity. My gaze drifted to the bedside table, where a note sat propped against a steaming cup of tea."You’re safe here. Rest. I’ll be back soon."The sight of it made my chest tighten. He’d thought of everything, even my favorite tea. As I reached for the cup, its warmth seeped into my hands, steadying me. The taste was familiar, soothing, but it did little to calm the storm inside me. How could someone so powerful, so complicated, care this much?The sound of the door opening startled me, and I turned just as Adrian steppe
Emily's POVI woke up to the soft light of morning filtering through the curtains, warming the edges of the bed. Stretching languidly, I let the events of the last few days wash over me. Adrian—his intensity, his protectiveness, and that maddening charm of his—was all I could think about.But my responsibilities called, tugging me back to reality. The hotel wouldn’t run itself, and I had left so much undone. My team deserved more than me hiding away, no matter how tempting it was to let Adrian keep me cocooned in his world.As I made my way to breakfast, I resolved to convince him I needed to return to work. Easier said than done, I realized when his piercing gaze met mine over the table.“You’re not going back without security,” he said before I could even get the words out. His tone left no room for argument.I tried to keep my voice calm, measured. “Adrian, I’ll be fine. Really. I’ll be careful.”“That’s not enough,” he replied, his voice softening but still firm. “Emily, I can’t t
Emily's POVThe vineyard was enchanting, a private oasis where time seemed to stand still. I couldn’t help but feel at peace as Adrian’s piercing gaze held mine. He had a way of making everything else disappear, and in that moment, I wanted to let him in—fully.We sat on the soft picnic blanket, our wine glasses glinting under the fading sunlight. “So, tell me,” Adrian said, his voice warm and inviting. “What’s your dream, Emily? What do you want out of life?”His question caught me off guard, but the sincerity in his eyes encouraged me to open up. “I want... more than just success,” I began, my fingers tracing the rim of my glass. “I want to create something lasting, something that matters. A business that supports people, helps them grow. And maybe one day…” I hesitated, feeling vulnerable under his scrutiny.“Go on,” he urged gently.“Maybe one day, a family. But only if it’s with someone who sees me as an equal, someone who... values me for me.”His expression softened, and for a m
Emily's POVI watched Claire’s face light up as the doctor gave her the all-clear to go home for the night. “You can return tomorrow for the tests,” he said, his tone calm but firm, “but make sure you rest.”Just as relief started to ease the lines on her face, Vincent spoke up. “Someone needs to stay with her. She’s pregnant, and I’m not leaving her alone.”I rolled my eyes. Typical Vincent. I admired his protective streak, but sometimes it was too much. “I’m here,” I said firmly. “I can stay with her.”Claire shook her head, her lips curving into a gentle smile. “Emily, you have work tomorrow. You’ve already done enough for me today.”“But—”Claire raised a hand to stop me. “Don’t argue with me.” Her tone was soft but resolute. “Go home, freshen up, and come back tomorrow.”Her words stung, though I couldn’t exactly say why. I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a near whisper. “And where’s your... military boyfriend in all of this?” I asked, careful not to draw Vincent’s attenti
Emily's POVAdrian’s hands were all over me the second the rooftop doors clicked shut behind us. My back hit the cold wall, and I let out a startled laugh, muffled when his lips claimed mine again.“Adrian,” I gasped between kisses, trying to catch my breath, “we’re still... still outside.”He pulled back just enough to meet my eyes, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. “Then let’s go inside before I make you scream right here.”As Adrian led me toward the VIP lounge, his hand gripping mine tightly, I couldn’t help but glance back over my shoulder. A flicker of light caught my attention—quick and subtle, like the flash of a camera.I froze mid-step.“Adrian,” I whispered, tugging at his hand.He turned, his brow furrowing in concern. “What’s wrong?”“I think...” I hesitated, scanning the dimly lit hallway. There was no one in sight now, but the nagging feeling remained. “I thought I saw someone... taking pictures.”His grip on my hand tightened, and his expression darkened. “Stay
Larry Thorne’s POVIt was quiet now. The kind of quiet that used to drive me insane when I was younger, before I knew how to appreciate it. The twins had finally fallen asleep after I’d read them their bedtime stories, the girl clutching her stuffed rabbit and the boy sprawled out like he owned the world.Fatherhood. Who would have thought it?Four months ago, I couldn’t have imagined this life. Me, Larry Thorne, the reckless playboy who lived for booze, drugs, and women, now playing the role of a family man.Well, mostly.I leaned against the doorframe of the twins’ room, watching their tiny chests rise and fall with each breath. It was surreal, almost poetic, how much they had changed me. I didn’t touch alcohol anymore, and the mere thought of drugs made me sick. I wanted to be better—for them. They deserved that.And for all her quirks, Elise had stepped up too. She loved those kids like they were her own, doting on them in ways I never expected. There were moments when I caught her
Chapter 34Mirabel Vanroe’s POVThese past four months have definitely been the longest four years of my life, it has taken me through different phases, made me understand myself more and most especially, understand the surrounding situation.The time within those months ave made me understand that forgiveness be damned, new beginnings be damned. Those who said that opportunities come but once weren't lying. They definitely had won my shoes before coming up with those words of wisdom, because I had that opportunity to become a star after I graduated from college, and it was the only once of my life, because now, I was nothing but a crazy woman forced to wear a white uniform because the alternative would have been orange overalls in a damned cell with notorious roommates, but right now, I was stuck with crazy. "I heard she used to be a top star.""Top star my foot, if she was a top star, then I was a top planet," I glared at the two psychopaths and watched them scamper away, while I h
Claire’s POVFour months had passed since my world turned upside down, and now I stood at the precipice of a new beginning. The joy of motherhood swelled within me, even as I lay drenched in sweat, gripping the sides of the hospital bed with all my might. The air in the delivery room felt thick, buzzing with nervous energy and the weight of what was about to happen."Push, Claire! You’re almost there!" The doctor’s voice cut through the haze of pain, grounding me in the moment.A sharp contraction tore through me, and for a brief moment, I thought I might lose my mind. Every nerve in my body screamed in protest, but then I felt Emily’s firm hand clasping mine."You’ve got this! You’re the strongest woman I know." Her voice, steady and filled with conviction, was the anchor I desperately needed.On the other side of me was Vince
Mirabel's POV The cold steel of the prison bars bit into my palms as I leaned against them, the chill seeping into my bones. My breath came out in ragged gasps, each one a struggle to pull from the suffocating air of my cell. The coarse fabric of my orange jumpsuit scratched at my skin, a constant reminder of how far I had fallen—from the glamour of studio lights and red carpets to this dim, unforgiving cage. Tears streamed
Larry's POVI never saw it coming—the sharp crack of bone that echoed through the room, a sound so foreign yet unmistakably mine. Pain flared up my leg, an incandescent burst of white-hot agony that blotted out thought and breath. I crumpled to the cold, hard ground, gasping, clutching at the shattered limb as if sheer will could piece it back together.“Damn it, Larry,” Vincent’s voice cut through the haze, cold and commanding. “You really should watch your step.”His words were laced with fury and satisfaction, a combination that made my stomach churn as much as the pain in my leg did. I bit down a groan, my breaths coming shallow and fast. Sweat pooled on my brow, and the room spun like a cruel carnival ride.“You didn’t have to do this,” I rasped, the words barely escaping through clenched teeth. My voice trembled, lacking conviction even as I spoke.Vincent crouched beside me, his face a mask of barely restrained rage. “Didn’t have to?” he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. “You
Vincent’s POVThe moment the hacker delivered the final batch of files, I knew Mirabel’s reign of terror was over. Nine hours was all it took for her carefully constructed image to shatter. Years of deceit, manipulation, and cruelty now sat neatly categorized in front of me—subtle, strong, explosive.I leaned back in my chair, staring at the screen as the weight of the evidence settled over me. Bank transfers tied to bribery. Screenshots of threats she’d sent to assistants she bullied into silence. Even a recorded confession from one of her ex-managers, who detailed the torment she’d put him through before driving him to a breakdown. And then there were the videos.They were the kind of content no PR team could spin, the kind that would obliterate every shred of credibility she had left. Explicit. Damning. Ugly.I should have felt disgusted—or maybe even pity—but all I felt was cold, unrelenting anger.“Vincent?” Claire’s voice pulled me back. She was sitting on the couch, her legs cu
Claire’s POVExhaustion weighed heavily on me, my body begging for rest, but my mind refused to grant it. My eyelids drooped as I sat on the edge of the bed, my hand resting protectively over my belly. Vincent was pacing in front of me, his phone in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He had been trying to convince me to sleep for over an hour, but how could I close my eyes with so much at stake?“They said ten hours,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Ten hours, Vincent. That’s a lifetime right now.”“You’ll make yourself sick,” he countered, kneeling before me. He placed the glass in my hand and cupped my cheek with his other. His gaze was soft, yet determined. “Claire, please. Trust me. We’re almost there.”I wanted to believe him, but the knot in my stomach wouldn’t unravel. “I can’t. Not until this is over. Not until Mirabel’s lies are exposed, and she can’t hurt us anymore.” My voice cracked, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded.Vincent’s thumb brushed against my cheek, wiping
Mirabel’s POVI paced the length of the room, my stilettos clicking sharply against the marble floor, their sound slicing through the tense silence. Every deliberate step mirrored the whirlwind in my mind. That insipid little video Claire had posted was still trending. A pregnant woman pleading for peace? Sympathy for her unborn child? It was a masterstroke of manipulation.And it was working.The pity I’d spent months crafting had evaporated overnight. My nails dug into my palms as I replayed her words in my head, each line dripping with saccharine innocence. If I announced my pregnancy now, it would look like a desperate bid for attention. Worse, it would backfire spectacularly. No one would side with me over a vulnerable, heavily pregnant woman.The public would eat me alive.But I wasn’t about to roll over and surrender. I’d played the victim long enough. Now, it was time to become the devil.I reached for my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I found the one I needed. My
Claire's POVThe moment Emily and Adrian left, the tension in the air felt almost suffocating. I was still processing the mess from earlier when something unexpected happened. It started with a faint sound—like the rustling of dozens of people gathering—and then it grew louder. By the time I made it to the window, I could see the crowd forming outside the gates, a sea of reporters, paparazzi, and random strangers pushing forward, trying to get in.I froze. Panic surged through me. I wasn’t sure what to do.Vincent, however, was on it in an instant. His phone rang with the speed of someone who had already anticipated this move. He snapped a few words into it, and within minutes, a team of security arrived. The scene outside was chaos, but it didn’t take long for the reporters to be pushed out of the way.Vincent had everything under control. And somehow, that made the whole situation feel even worse. The idea that I was trapped here—while he was orchestrating everything—only added to t